


You Can't Spell Stupid (without u and i)

by im_gonna_regret_this



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders is Extra, Gratuitous use of italics, I'm Bad At Tagging, Logan being a nerd, Logic | Logan Sanders Is A Good Friend, M/M, Morality | Patton Sanders is a Sweetheart, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Stress Baking, Swearing, also maybe minor college au elements, apartment au!! yeehaw, emile and remy but they show up later, everyone's gay on main, gratuitous use of swears actually, i care about them too much, i couldn't keep the slimy bois at bay, i love the slimy bois but they might take a lil while, it may not seem like it but remus and janus are actually going to be in this a lot, no beta we die like men, yall gonna have to wait for remus and janus too oops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 11:21:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25469953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_gonna_regret_this/pseuds/im_gonna_regret_this
Summary: It all started with a knock on the door.For a second- a very, very brief second- he contemplated not answering it. Maybe he should just finish his essay and wait for them to leave. What if it was their landlord, though? At the very least, it would be rude to leave a neighbor outside, unanswered, so Logan braced himself for any possible outcome that could be awaiting him, stood up, and answered the door.* * *Logan just wants to get through college. Roman just wants to keep doing theatre and find the prince of his dreams. Virgil just wants everything to stop going to shit. And Patton? Oh, Patton just wants to meet the neighbors!Four idiots. Two apartments. Also, Remus and Janus are there. Why? Because i said so.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 7
Kudos: 21





	1. Once is Happenstance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to the fic i guess?? its been a while since i've posted anything but i'm making pretty good progress with this fic and decided to post it on ao3 in the hopes that i don't lose inspiration or hit a wall of writer's block during this. this entire fic concept started off as a vessel for my subversive headcanons (virgil being into cottagecore, roman secretly listening to emo shit, logan being emotional on main, patton being socially inept, etc) and then turned into, i mean, i don't even know at this point. but hey, its chaos time! have fun!

It all started with a knock on the door.

Of course, Logan had no idea a single knock on the door would carry such significance, and if ever asked what event had kicked off everything that was to come he would not think to even mention the knock on the door as he would the events directly proceeding it, but that didn't change the truth of the matter.

And the truth of the matter was, the beginning of the rest of his life started with a knock on the door.

Logan had been sitting on the couch, back straight, shoulders rolled back, typing away at an essay for his language arts course when he heard it. For a second- a very, very brief second- he contemplated not answering it. After all, most of what he had was a vague outline and only partially written thesis, the latter of which was shaky at best. That and a quote from A Very Potter Musical, which he was considering just ditching altogether.

But then he reflected back on the fact that roman was currently out, so there was no one else to answer the door, and the sound at the door could be anyone or anything. It could be a delivery of some sort, or possibly Roman having locked himself out again. Then again, Logan didn't remember recently placing orders for anything, and the delivery person would've left any sort of package in the mailbox for his apartment or by the front desk. It was also too early for Roman to be back by now, never-mind the fact that Roman would've been locked out of the entire building without his key-card, and he would've already called Logan, whining to be let in, several times by now.

Logan physically shuddered at the thought, but it could be those Mormons again, trying to convert him with promises of eternal paradise and free copies of their bible. How did they keep getting in, anyway? Maybe if he was a bit harsher, he could finally scare them off for good. Maybe he should just finish his essay and wait for them to leave.

What if it was their landlord, though?

At the very least, it would be rude to leave a neighbor outside, unanswered, although he couldn't imagine what any of his neighbors would want from him. Regardless, Logan braced himself for any possible outcome that could be awaiting him as he moved his laptop onto an adjacent seat and stood, stretching.

He walked from his and Roman's small, shared living room to the hallway, and answered the door.

* * *

What Logan saw upon opening the door was unexpected.

Not unexpected in the way a delivery man with a package or his landlord or those Mormons would be. Mainly, because he had already thought of those possibilities, making them at least a tiny bit expected. He hadn't really expected this, though. At least, not exactly.

It _was_ a neighbor, or- well, _he_ was a neighbor, fidgeting ever so slightly as he stood in the hallway outside, but it seemed more from excitement than anxiety. The man stood, clad in khaki shorts and a blue polo, cardigan tied around his shoulders and a passive smile on his face, although he immediately brightened on seeing Logan. Strange. What was even stranger was the glass plate of cookies in his hand, probably chocolate chip from what Logan could see through the layers of plastic wrap.

"Hi there!" he said, grinning from ear to ear. His freckles moved when he spoke.

Logan waited for something else, but when the man simply stood, beaming at him through glasses that looked like his own but couldn't have been, he figured he was being prompted to reply. He did.

"Greetings." Logan said back, stilted and emotionless, although his confusion was growing by the second.

No one said anything for a few seconds. It felt much, much longer than that. Big, brown eyes were scanning him, lost in thought.

"May I ask you what you're... doing, exactly?" Logan began, "you were the one who knocked on my door, correct?"

"Oh! Yeah!" the man said, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand as his grin became less manic and something more nervous and real, "Sorry, I'm not great at starting conversations, haha."

Logan attempted a small smile, but it felt more like a grimace. He just.. he really didn't like social interaction in the first place, and while he wasn't socially inept, this was starting to make him feel like an emotional dunce. Plus, freckles over here was just... looking at him. Not really staring, but observing him closely, for sure, and Logan didn't really know how to feel about that.

"I, just, uh," the man started, face flushing for some unknown reason, and _oh thank god Logan didn't have to carry this entire conversation_ , "I thought I'd bring over some treats! me and my buddy, Virgil, were baking earlier and had some spare cookies, and I know you're new to the apartments n' all, so I thought you'd like a friendly welcome!" he said, words rushing together as they all came flooding out.

Logan blinked at him. He adjusted his glasses and looked down at the plate of cookies, then back to him again. The man's smile wilted, then dropped completely as some sort of realization struck him.

"Oh no!" he gasped, bringing his free hand to his chest in a way that reminded Logan of his roommate, "You don't have any allergies, do you? Aw jeez, I should've come over and asked before we baked these... I'm so sorry!"

...

What?

_What???_

"Uh." Logan started, blinking, and wow, he was really at a loss for words. Genuinely. This man, his neighbor, looked at him like a kicked puppy, or like Logan himself was the kicked puppy, or both, then cast his pitying gaze down at the plate in his hands. Everything was falling apart and he hadn't even said anything. What universe was he in, again?

"I," Logan began again, trying his hardest to say literally anything, "I don't have any allergies, no." And then, as his neighbor brightened at that, only because Logan felt like he was already in an alternate dimension and couldn't stop himself, "Did- did you bake these specifically for me?"

The man had the audacity to giggle, any trace of dejection wiped from his face full of sunshine, and wow. It had been about three minutes and Logan already had whiplash. A gentle blush, pink and rosy, bloomed across his cheeks and neck, making his freckles stand out even more. " _Well_ ," he said, dragging out the syllable, "Maybe?"

Logan held out his hands, wordless and partially in shock, and the man eagerly pushed the plate into his grasp, their hands briefly touching. His hands were impossibly warm compared to Logan's cold ones.

"Um, I," Logan stuttered, actually stuttered, before clearing his throat and attempting to mentally reset, "Thank you." 

The man, the stranger, Logan's neighbor, laughed again. He wasn't laughing at Logan; no, it was more like he was just happy and wanted anyone in the world listening to hear it and know that. "No problem!" he said, and turned, glancing backwards and waving with an "I'll see you around!" before walking up to the apartment straight across from his, unlocking the door with a key card covered in star stickers, and stepping inside.

Huh. Small world.

Logan stood there, in the open doorway of his own apartment, holding a plate of cookies sealed with plastic wrap, and processed how that man's cardigan wasn't a cardigan at all, but what seemed like a cat hoodie, judging by the cat ears on the hood he'd seen when the man was leaving.

Logan stood, staring at the door across the hall.

Logan stood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> patton is so goddamn whipped yall you don't even know
> 
> thank you for making it to the end! any comments are greatly appreciated, and hopefully the next chapter will be out relatively soon. see ya later!


	2. We Eatin' Good Over Here, Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman was having boy troubles. Again.
> 
> Logan had cookies, and a neighbor. A neighbor with a face, and a voice, and a... name?
> 
> shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> roman makes an entrance! well, semi-entrance, anyway. logan frets over the neighbor some more, reminisces about the past and his family, and has a religious experience eating a cookie.
> 
>  _completely_ unrelated, the title is from algorhythm by childish gambino (the temptation was too strong im sorry). this chapter has been sponsored by my overuse of italics and my inability to write good characterization for roman and logan.

Logan stood.

And then his phone went off. An 8 bit rendition of the theme from the BBC's Sherlock began playing, slightly muffled by the fabric of his pocket but otherwise blaring through the hall. He flinched, snapped out of _whatever_ he was lost in, and hurried inside his apartment, closing the door with his elbow as he held the cookie plate in one hand and dug the other into his slacks, cursing the pockets for being so deep.

"Logan Sharp," he answered, unprepared. He hadn't had time to look at the caller ID and didn't want the entire apartment complex hearing his ringtone or phone conversation. It could've definitely been heard from across the hall, at least. Not that that mattered, and why was he even thinking about-

"Wow, not even a 'hello, Roman'? Cold as ice." Logan's annoying roommate said from across the line. Logan could just see Roman doing some sort of overly dramatic gesture like he was a Victorian woman about to faint.

" _Hello, Roman._ " Logan sighed, laying the sarcasm on thick and hoping he was properly conveying the same energy as a tired, non-responsive husband saying "yes, dear."

" _Hello, Logan,_ " Roman mocked back much harder, and, yep, he had definitely picked up on it, "See, was that so hard?"

"I didn't have time to check who was calling." Logan said. A pause. "Why are you calling, anyway?"

"Oh, thank you for your Patience, Saint Pim," Roman started, tone drenched in sass, and Logan really didn't understand the relevance of an Adventure Time reference at the moment, "But _anyway_ , I called to let you know I'm getting off work early!"

Logan frowned. Since this was a semi-regular occurrence, Roman would usually just send him a text, or just show back up with no warning at all. Roman calling over something this small was unusual and unlikely. Unless he wasn't just calling over this.

"And why couldn't you have just sent me text?" Logan asked. Roman must've mistaken his flat tone for annoyance, because there was a loud scoff into the phone.

"You wound me! Am I not allowed to take time out of my break to call my roommate and most dearest friend, just to hear his voice?" Roman asked, and yeah, no, Logan wasn't buying it for a second. He normally would've just crossed his arms and raised a disbelieving eyebrow until Roman cracked, but he settled for a well-toned, still disbelieving "mhmm" instead. There was a few seconds pause before Roman sighed, giving in.

"Fine, ok, well," he started, and Logan could practically see Roman doing that fidgety thing he does when he wants to say something but is afraid of how it'll come out. " _So...._ "

Hesitance. Logan raised an eyebrow out of reflex. "So?"

" _So,_ " Roman drew out, "I _may_ or may not have seen thisreallycuteguyearlierandI'mkindoffreakingoutaboutitalittlemaybe????"

Logan blinked. He only could parse about half of that, but he could already tell this was going to be a _conversation_ conversation.

"What?"

Roman groaned- overdramatic, as all things he did. "I _said,_ " Roman started, voice muffled as if he was hiding his face in his hands, "That I saw this guy earlier, and he was,,,, ᶜᵘᵗᵉ,,,, and I..."

A heavy, love struck, yet slightly despairing sigh, as if he knew what he was getting into but didn't mind. "I've fallen."

Logan stood for a minute, analyzing, and repressed the urge to also sigh, heavily, for different reasons. Roman couldn't control his feelings, as most people couldn't, but already? He was already this bad over someone he just met? "Do you know _anything_ about him?"

"Well," Roman drew out the syllable, and Logan knew he was just stalling for time, "he, uh... likes coffee?"

Logan actually did sigh this time. God damn it.

"Roman... I don't know how to properly express to you that most Starbucks customers "like coffee". Do you even know his name?" Exasperation seeped through the cracks in his words like lava through broken earth.

"No," Roman whined, absolutely _lamented_ , and it made Logan want to tear his hair out of his head because this shit happened every other week, and while Logan loved and cared about Roman, and Roman was his best friend, and he would do a _considerable_ amount of dangerous things for him, it was still exhausting as hell.

"I mean, at least I don't think so?" 

How did this get even more complicated? Logan's eyes glazed over, unseeing except into the void, and he distantly pondered just how much Roman's theatrics had rubbed off on him.

"You don't think so." He parroted. His tone was dry enough to make the Sahara cry.

"Well, he gave me a name for his order, but... I mean it can't possibly be Jeff."

Logan was rubbing the bridge of his nose hard, trying to will away his oncoming headache. "He told you. His name. Was Jeff."

"I know right!" Roman responded, clearly not picking up on Logan's astronomical frustration, "He actually had to stop and think about it, too! I can't understand why-"

There was someone's voice in the distance saying something Logan couldn't make out, and Roman responded in turn, voice sounding far away for a moment.

"Shit," he hissed under his breath, "Sorry, my break is almost over but I'll be home soon; I'll probably get some food on the way- bye~!"

And then Roman hung up on him. Logan blinked numbly at the wall opposite him, brain shutting down for a moment, before finally allowing himself to enter the living room again. He stepped over the strange split in flooring that separated the living room and hall, and moving further away from the front door brought him more relief than it should've. In a slightly uncharacteristic move, he opted to chuck his phone onto the couch instead of putting it back in his pocket or on the coffee table. He did, however, deposit the plate of cookies onto the coffee table, and finally sat back down on the couch, sinking into it this time.

Roman was having boy troubles, again, and this would probably go about as well as the other times. Oh well. In the event he actually managed to interact with this... _Jeff_ , Logan would be discreetly cheering him on in the background, and in the more likely event that everything fell apart, well, that's why they kept a box of tissues next to their DVD of Love, Actually. Roman's movie tastes were a switch that only flipped from Disney movies to moderately shitty rom-coms from the 2000s.

Logan had a neighbor. He had already known this fact, but interacting with the man himself had made the words taste different on his tongue. "Neighbor" was becoming less a faceless being that happened to occupy an apartment within range of his own, and more... freckles. Awkward laughter, and Warby Parkers, and cat hoodies. And cookies.

Logan had cookies. He looked back at the plate sitting on his coffee table and that really was a lot of plastic wrap. His neighbor had really wrapped it up tight. His neighbor who had a face, and a voice, and a... name?

Shit.

Logan had forgot to ask what his neighbor's name was. He made a sound between a sigh and a groan, scrubbing his hands over his face and knocking his glasses off consequently. He sunk further into the couch, willing it to swallow him whole, but knowing full well it wouldn't. No amount of breaking the laws of physics would save him from unwarranted embarrassment, anyway.

How did that even happen? Weren't introductions usually the first things to be exchanged when conversing with a new person? Come to think of it, Logan hadn't offered up his own name, either. His neighbor had gone through the trouble of baking him cookies and hand delivering them, and he hadn't even told the man his name. His mother would be rolling in her grave over his blatant lack of manners if she were dead.

Bending over to pick up his glasses, he studied the frame in his hands. His other mom had picked them out for him, and had been telling him he looked a "dashing young man" since he first put them on. She would probably just ruffle his hair as if he were a child and not a 20 year old college student, and smile at him like she knew something he didn't yet. Logan had underestimated how much he would miss his moms.

Sighing _again_ \- he seemed to be sighing a lot, recently- he put on his glasses, and decided to try one of those cookies to stop himself from ~~spiraling~~ reminiscing before he resumed writing his essay. The essay wasn't due for another two days, but he was, for once, struggling with the writing prompt, and he didn't want to give his professor anything less than stellar or _worse_ , turn it in late.

Casting a glance at his closed laptop, he reached forward, grabbing the plate off of his coffee table. He looked it over, just turning it in his hands, and it seemed every time he looked at it, it gained a new layer of plastic wrap. The plate was heavier than it looked, too. How heavy were these cookies?

Carefully unwrapping two, three, four- no, *five* layers of wrap, Logan finally got to the cookies. They looked harmless enough, just typical chocolate chip cookies, and Logan really didn't know why he was over-analyzing a plate of cookies so much. It was just a plate. With cookies on it. It wasn't such a profound matter. He grabbed one off the top, looking it over like an absolute psychopath because he was still over-analyzing a _cookie_ for no reason, and made himself take a bite without any further hesitation.

And then he stopped.

Logan actually _froze_ , mid-chew, eyebrows shooting up to his forehead. He really didn't expect it to be that good, but _wow_. Then again, he didn't know what he was expecting really, and even if he had some expectation, well, he had expected the possibility of a neighbor at the door, and look how far that had got him. If he were Roman, he'd probably be waxing poetic about the parallels between his neighbor and this cookie, spouting flowery nonsense about the best experiences in life being unexpected, using over-theatrical words and phrases he'd picked up from his theatre troop or old Shakespearean plays.

But he wasn't Roman. And he wouldn't indulge in any nonsense like that. He would just enjoy this cookie- this unfairly and, quite frankly, _ridiculously_ good cookie- and not think about his peculiar, happy-go-lucky neighbor again, and finish his essay. Life would go on, and he would stop making such a big deal about small things, like botched interactions, or how this cookie was probably the best cookie he had ever tasted or would ever taste for the foreseeable future.

Logan reached for his laptop. Irresponsible, considering he was still handling food, but today was getting wilder by the second and he could afford to be a little less prudent. Opening it with one hand while cradling the food of the gods in the other, he looked back at the open word document. Pausing for a moment, he took another bite, and then hit backspace until the quote was gone. He looked over his introductory paragraph again, unsatisfied with his work but finding it difficult to craft something stronger at the moment. The cookie in his hand was gone before he realized and, with absolutely no hesitation this time, he reached for another one. The texture was immediately different, and there was a chew- were those raisins?

On further inspection, and a second bite, Logan realized that yes, it was an oatmeal raisin cookie, his favorite, and that was another surprise. Not because it was unexpectedly good- which it was- but because, for some reason, his neighbor didn't seem the type to enjoy oatmeal raisin cookies. Although, as soon as Logan thought that, he realized how ridiculous it sounded. What did that even mean? And why was he thinking about what kind of cookies his neighbor would partake of? He had an essay to write and needed to stop distracting himself!

Finishing the cookie in a few more bites, he reread the fragile skeleton of his unfinished essay and grimaced. Maybe it was better with the quote.

Normally he would get up and wash his hands, or at least grab a paper towel before touching his laptop keyboard, but, wanting to conserve his energy for dealing with Roman's ~~stupid bullshit~~ boy troubles, he just wiped his hand on the side of his pant leg like a barbarian before he began typing.

_"Foreshadowing is a dramatic device in which an important plot point is mentioned earlier in the story to return later in a more significant way" (Hermione Granger, A Very Potter Musical)._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will logan ever finish his essay? will roman ever stop being so stupid and gay? will it take nine years for me to introduce the rest of the characters? who the fuck is jeff? all this and more on the next episode of dragon ball z
> 
> thank you for reading! any comments and/or constructive criticisms are welcome and appreciated! hope you enjoyed logan and his gentle lesbian moms, because this is the only healthy family dynamic you're gonna get!


End file.
